The Lines We Paint
by Monisse
Summary: She drew the line between them once more, this time it faltered slightly and was blurred around the edges. Now she was left alone with hands filled with a job that colored the puzzle of her life, and the extraordinary sensation that the missing piece was currently walking away from her and out of her life. - An insight into Jules breaking up with Sam.


**Title:** The Lines We Paint

 **Pairing:** Sam/Jules

 **Rating:** T (Because I couldn't help myself and wrote some –small- references to sexual content)

 **Spoilers:** Season 2, Episode 8: Aisle 13

 **Disclaimer:** I don't own Flashpoint. If I did, it would still be running. Also, this is my first try at fan fiction after a 5 year hiatus! Don't judge too hard…

* * *

In the early autumn night a cool breeze flowed past her and with a shivering response she pulled the coat tightly against her to prevent the cold that was slowly, but surely invading her body. A cold so intense that made her tremble with unease, one that was becoming less of a reaction to the weather and more to do with the anxiety taking over her heart.

Her heels hit the pavement with soft sounds as she made her way towards what was increasingly feeling like an assassination mission. Only this time, and contrary to her primal instincts, her words were now the weapons of destruction. Words have always been her salvation, as well as of others, they were her strength in challenging times and more often than not, always pulled her through. Tonight, however, she would be using them to break a heart. A heart that had become more precious to her than she was able to admit out loud. To dive into those bottomless waters and rationalise her feelings for him was a dangerous mission and the fear of what lay beneath the carefully built layers around her own heart always seemed to overthrow her mind in a battle between reason and emotion. She had only allowed herself to touch the surface of that pool, and already its depth had threatened to engulf and drown her. Of the numerous things that often kept her awake, the meaning of these feelings for him often sneaked up on her in the dead of the night when her small figure was safely wrapped in his strong arms and his scent overwhelmed her senses.

She came to a halt in front of the bar window. Already she could see him waiting for her with a miserable look in his eyes, all alone at the table. She twisted the rings on her fingers, once and again in a steady rhythmic motion, a nervous play of the silver bands in a desperate attempt to grasp at an illusion of tranquillity. She heard herself chuckle grimly. These rings had no emotional value to them, just pieces of embellishment, and after tonight those were sure be the only ones on her finger for a long while.

With what felt like the bravest intake of breath yet, she pushed the door forward and let her legs mindlessly carry her towards the table. She sat down abruptly in front of him, rather ungraciously for her taste, and sensed his deep intake of breath as her arrival pulled him from the thoughts that plagued his mind. Brown eyes avoided blue ones, for she knew that once she gazed into them it would be her downfall.

The waitress approached the table and she took the time to order a beer for herself, in spite of the anxious waves that threatened to turn her stomach inside out.

After a while a timid greeting escaped his lips and she could see his adam's apple working vigorously up and down as if he was trying to swallow an impossible hard situation.

"How was work today?" She asked while nonchalantly sipping at her drink. She had to start somewhere, but unlike the previous unsuccessful attempts to address the subject, she opted for a casual approach recalling he was a master at evasion.

"Normal, I guess." He shrugged his shoulders dismissing the seriousness of the day in comparison to the turmoil that was currently raging inside of him. "How was your conversation with the boss?"

It was then that she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Those beautiful pieces of a clear sky that had been guilty of luring her warm chocolate ones to them the first time they met. They made her think of another blue, one that currently decorated the walls of her bedroom, and the same one that plagued her anesthesia induced dreams for days after being shot. Back then, in her state of unconsciousness, all she could remember were his large hands leaving blue paint prints on her tights as he grabbed her naked body securely under his, pressed it to the floor and made her feel the fires of pleasure again. Her own hands had left blue lines all over his back that night. Now, his blue eyes always so unguarded with her, poured a profound amount of longing and sadness into hers.

"He knows about us." Her voice rang pure with seriousness, all their fears encased into those few words.

"Did you tell him that if you're gonna go back, we can still be professionals?"

"It's not if, it's _when_ I'm gonna go back on the team, Sam." She pressed forward trying to reason with him.

"Ok, so, the boss knows." He said with resignation, pressing his joined hands against his lips.

"Right, which is exactly why we can't be together if I'm gonna go back, you know that."

More than once she wondered if it was the secrecy that made it so intense, so incredibly better than the string of boring dates that filled the lonely hours. And surely, from the start they knew it was a doomed relationship, living on borrowed time, but somehow they kept fuelling it to the point that the connection was so strong that soon after it begun it no longer felt like a way to pass the time.

The ultimatum had been clear, there should be a fine line between them once again to prevent an intimate relationship between colleagues, a condition that needed to be observed if she wanted to get back on the team. There had been a time in her life when she had been pushed towards her emotional limits, when she struggled against life itself and the many injustices along her way and no line would ever stop her from getting everything she wanted. Back then, in what now felt like another life in itself, she had been tested time and time again, a hard attempt on life's behalf to make or break her spirit. That had been the time when she had found her strength of character, her drive, and since then she had been on a desperate run forward, toward higher and boundless achievements. The recollection of her efforts to reach this point in her life was what ultimately had given her strength to make such an emotionally cruel decision.

He inhaled deeply and moved his body away from hers. His eyes shifted away as well and immediately she missed that one connection that never failed to make her feel safe. At once his body language changed to a pose of defeat against the back of the chair.

"I love you Sam, but I've worked my whole life for this job, and the team and… I'm not gonna let getting shot stand in the way of me going back." She had worked hard to be on that team, now also a sort of surrogate family, and twice as hard to get back in again, no matter how ridiculously hard she had pushed herself beyond the perceived 'weak' gender impression. In one lonely night, after a brutal session of physical therapy and deeply immersed in anger carefully disguised as a voracious desire to settle her priorities straight again, she had vowed to herself that nothing and no one would stand in her way.

He was visibly stunned, searching in his mind for words that struggled to form as his mind overflowed with the words she had just said. "You mean I'm not gonna stand in your way."

She sighed. No words came to her mind, except that he was right. It already felt like they were on a collision course without any chance to stop this emotional train. There would be casualties.

A sarcastic smile appeared in his features. He chuckled humourlessly, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Jules, that's the first time you told me you love me, I didn't think it would be like this." The emotion was vividly present in this voice, making it crack and his husky tone descend into lower ones.

There was just so much she could do to prevent herself from leaning forward and brush her fingers against his stubble covered cheek and make the sweet smile she adored appear in his face once more.

It was then that it downed on herself, like a bucket of cold water. Inadvertently something else entirely had escaped her carefully chosen words, surprising her completely. Indeed, it was the first time she had said those words even though they had been on the tip of her tongue countless times before. In those long summer nights where the heat they generated in the sheets was so intense that it went up in flames and burned until only their sated bodies remained, their eyes would lock in an intense exchange of that unspoken truth.

"Sam…" She softly spoke his name, remembering the many different ways she had said it before. In pain, in joy, in anger, in passion, in fear and now in sadness. However sad their situation may be, the truth was out and there was no reason to deny it.

"I get it. I get it, I do." And there was no doubt in her mind that indeed he did get it. In spite of the fact that she was slowly and steadily squeezing his heart in her hands, she knew that he regarded his job as seriously as she did, and would go to great lengths of sacrifice for it.

Under his intense gaze an uneasiness seized her body and she quickly realised that in the process of breaking his heart she would have to break hers as well. He was in her sight, her breath slowed down and her metaphorical finger pressed the trigger. Then she averted her eyes and went for the kill.

"Well, there's always the other choice if we wanna stay together. Only one of us has to leave the team." She finally said knowing perfectly well that was not an option either would take. How low she had fallen from grace in order to effectively conclude the discussion. He was hurting, she could tell her aim had been true. He couldn't believe she had slapped that option in his face, provoking him to make a decision she could and would not do, trying to walk away with clean hands.

He took a deep breath and closed his blue eyes. When he opened them again all the emotions had vanished behind a wall of concrete, his body expression shifted and his shoulders tensed. Immediately she regretted those words, for now he stared back at her with an unreadable expression that shook her to the core. Her cheerful man was gone and in its place there was a semblance of the soldier he had been not long ago, still, silent, with protected emotions against a world of hurt.

"I don't think we have anything else to discuss then." His voice, calm and collected, without a hint of the previous cracks, did not betray any emotion. The words were dry and hard in her ears.

"Sam…" She whispered again, desperately wanting to grasp his retreating emotions and pull him back to her. At that point she would have given anything to not be there, in that bar that would forever be linked to her worst memories, with a barely touched pint of beer, and their hearts fragmented all over the wooden floor. All she wanted was to take him home, to her bed, into her arms and kiss away all the pain she caused. But he stood up abruptly, effectively shutting down her dangerous train of thought.

"I'll see you at work." He simply stated before leaving the table and walking towards the door.

He did not look behind once and missed her soft sobbing, tears filled her eyes and blurred her vision until she could see nothing but his tall frame walking away.

So she drew the line between them once more, this time it faltered slightly and was blurred around the edges. It would take all of her strength, some she was not sure to have, to remain in her own side, alone every night from now on, in order to preserve what she thought was her most valuable possession, her work. One day she would recognise that there were other valuable things in life that were just as worth fighting for, and when that day comes she would have learned the lesson already and would never doubt again.

For now she was left in a solitary table with hands filled with a job that coloured the puzzle of her life, and with the extraordinary sensation that the missing piece was currently walking away from her and out of her life.

 _The End_

* * *

Thank you for reading. This is my first attempt at Flashpoint fan fiction. I tried to tap into the emotions that usually drive my writing and I hope you enjoyed.

Reviews are the food to my soul!


End file.
